Rise of the Wizard
by Crimson Zephyr
Summary: Raising a budding wizard proves to be quite a challenge.
1. Chapter 1

Inspired from a prompt on the ROTG kink meme.

I've mulling over doing this for a while and decided to try my hand at it. I apologize in advanced if it's a little OOC ^^;;

Kudos to my moirail for coming up with the title :D

Notice: Canon Divergence, Established Relationship, Families of Choice, Father-Son Relationship, Misuse of Magic, Pitch as the crazy uncle

Disclaimer: I do not own the following franchises or their characters. They rightfully belong to J.K. Rowling and William Joyce.

* * *

There is an owl in his Warren.

There is an owl holding an envelope in its beak in his Warren.

There is an owl holding an envelope that has his son's name scrawled across the parchment in its beak in his Warren.

Bunnymund glares at the bird perched atop an egg sentinel.

How the hell did it even get in? The Warren is guarded against intruders and invitation only. Is this someone's idea of a joke? It cannot be from Jack; his mate comes and goes as he pleases. It is not Tooth's doing; she dislikes owls and she would send Baby Tooth if she needed something. He rules out North and Sandy because both Guardians have better ways at contacting him and his son. As for Pitch…well, the Boogeyman knows better.

Bunnymund momentarily pushes those thoughts aside, wanting to deal with the unwanted pest first. Stepping forward, he angrily waves a paw at the bird.

"Go on! Shoo, ya blighter!" he yells.

The feathery creature tilts its head in reply, its big eyes reflecting amusement at the Pooka.

"Why ya—go away before I turn ya into a pillow!"

"Da, who are you yelling at this early?" a young voice chimes in.

Bunnymund turns to find his ten-year-old son exiting their burrow. His half-lidded eyes blink away the remnants of Sandy's dream-sand. The snowflake-printed pajamas the boy wears are slightly rumpled. Strands of black hair messily curl every which way.

"Nothin', kit, why don't ya go get washed up for breakfast?"

"Is that an owl?" his son asks, now fully awake.

The Pooka grits his teeth. "Yes and it is _leaving_," he hisses at the bird.

The owl screeches in retaliation and takes flight. It soars over Bunnymund's head—_a little too close if ya ask me!_—and deposits its papery cargo in the boy's hands. Before the Guardian can make a grab at the devil-creature, the owl quickly flies away and out of sight.

"That was cool!" the ten-year-old exclaims.

Bunnymund scoffs and hops over to his son's side. He quickly takes the envelope, giving it a thorough look-over. Aside from his son's name—_where the hell did 'Potter' come from?_—it also has the precise location of the Warren and their burrow written on it. Already suspicious, the Pooka's instincts do not go haywire until he turns the parchment over and catches sight of a waxy seal stamped on the back. Recognizing the emblem, his long ears and whiskers droop.

"Da, what's wrong? What's it say?" his son worriedly asks, noticing a change in his father's mood.

Releasing a shuddering breath, Bunnymund pats the boy's head. "Go get dressed, kit, and pack a bag. We're goin' to Uncle North's for a while."


	2. Chapter 2

**EDIT 4/14/13**: I changed something Bunny says after a kind reviewer pointed out a misuse of a slang word, so you thank you very much :)

. . .

*headdesk* I hated writing this chapter sooooo much; I had, like, five drafts.

Also—I should probably this mention before the story progresses—the timeline for this fanfic takes place 2-3 years after the ROTG canon movie-verse (so Harry was eight-years-old during that time) which means the HP timeline is gonna be a little skewed.

Notice: Canon Divergence, Established Relationship, Families of Choice, Father-Son Relationship, Misuse of Magic, Pitch as the crazy uncle

Disclaimer: I do not own the following franchises or their characters. They rightfully belong to J.K. Rowling and William Joyce.

* * *

North is sure his eyes are going to fall out of their sockets if he keeps watching Bunnymund continually pace; and he is pretty sure his friend is wearing a hole in his favorite throw-rug.

It has been a full hour and a half since the Pooka and his son graced the workshop with their presence, hopping out of a hole with a duffel bag in tow. Once the young boy was settled at a table—not after protesting that he wanted to stay with his father—laden with toy robot parts and placed under Phil's supervision, Bunnymund asked if he could speak to the toymaker privately in the office. North obliged, not knowing the Pooka would start ranting, and in various languages too—_his Russian is getting better_—the minute the door closed.

North pinches the bridge of his nose, sighing deeply. "Bunny, I see no reason why you continue tirade."

"Haven't ya been listenin'?! _They_ sent a letter to my son!" the furred Guardian seethes.

"And is cause for alarm?"

The glare Bunnymund fixes on the ex-bandit can send Fearlings running.

"I think real reason you are upset is because owl found way into Warren," North jokes, eyes twinkling.

"Not bloody likely!"

There is a slight pause. "Or maybe…you are more confused than upset?"

That stops the Pooka in his tracks and gape at the toymaker. "Excuse me? How does running my gob like a loon equal confused?"

North rises from his seat, walking over to his friend in two big strides. "What were first thoughts when you saw envelope's emblem?"

"North, what are ya—"

"Answer question."

Bunnymund takes a deep breath. "I was terrified. I mean, why would they send a letter to my son? Sure, he's special—we all know so—but special enough for that place? Mind ya, the same place where that crazy drongo came from. And I just…I don't wanna expose the kit to the likes of that."

"No parent should, Bunny, but these people will not stop after one letter."

"How would you know?"

"Call it personal experience," the toymaker grins, giving the Pooka a hard pat on the back.

Bunnymund winces from his friend's exuberant gesture. Still smiling, North returns to his worktable and resumes tinkering with a toy train.

The sounds of a fire crackling and the taps of a hammer fill the room as both Guardians fall silent. Collapsing in an armchair, his anger spent, Bunnymund pulls the opened, yet slightly torn, envelope out of his bandolier and turns it over in his paws, silently contemplating.

"What are plans now?" North asks.

"Dunno," the Pooka mutters. "The kit deserves to know."

"Yes, he does."

"He'll probably accept."

"Or not. He loves you very much, Bunny, and not wish to see you sad," the ex-bandit mentions.

"I reckon any other family would be excited ov'r this."

"We are not like other families."

Bunnymund dryly chuckles. "Statin' the obvious, mate."

"Da! Uncle North!"

Both Guardians hear the door swing open with a loud thud. An excited ten-year-old bounces in, holding something behind his back. Splotches of dry paint decorated the sleeves of his sweater with a single smudge on his cheek. His eyeglasses are messily perched atop his head as a pair of protective goggles was strewn around his neck.

Bunnymund quickly shoves the envelope back in the bandolier before pulling his son in his lap.

"Kit, what've I told ya about enterin' before knockin'?" he reminds.

"Sorry, Da, but I really wanted to show you and Uncle North what I made."

The young boy proudly reveals what he is hiding: a completed toy robot sporting an interesting shade of purple with a painted 'H' on its helmet.

"Tchaikovsky! Wonderful!" North booms, leaving his worktable to go sweep the boy in a bear-hug.

"What made ya choose purple?"

"Martin wanted to paint 'em blue again but I said purple would be better 'cause it'll save him loads of extra work," he beams. "Do you like it, Uncle North?"

"Yes, very much," chuckles the toymaker, "and you are right. Purple is excellent color."

North carries his son over to the worktable to show him the unfinished train. He starts 'oooh-ing' and 'aaah-ing' at the toy, asking North if he can show him how to make one too.

Bunnymund smiles at the happy scene. As much as he wants his son to stay a little boy a while longer, the kit deserves a chance to branch out in the world and make his mark…even if it is at _that_ place.

Letting out a sigh, the Pooka's mind is made up.

"Kit—Harry, we gotta talk."

* * *

North is hard to write ^^;;

I meant to have Jack in this chapter but I changed my mind. He'll show up soon with Tooth and Sandy and Pitch ;D

Btw, I am not fluent in the Australian language and I am getting most of the words/phrases from a website. If I get anything wrong, kindly message me and I'll fix it :)


	3. Chapter 3

Hey, a new chapter! Sorry it took so long but I kept stressing and putting it off ^^;;

OH! And don't forget to check out the ROTW poll in my profile! I already have an answer in mind but it doesn't hurt to get a second opinion XD

Notice: Canon Divergence, Established Relationship, Families of Choice, Father-Son Relationship, Misuse of Magic, Pitch as the crazy uncle

Disclaimer: I do not own the following franchises or their characters. They rightfully belong to J.K. Rowling and William Joyce.

* * *

"I'm a what?"

"You're a wizard, Harry," is what Bunnymund repeats to his son.

Harry sits with his father on the window-seat in North's office; the toymaker previously left to give them some privacy. The young boy looks down at the crumpled envelope in his hands and stares at it.

"Kit, ya doin' okay?"

It takes a couple of more minutes before Harry replies.

"This…is…awesome!" he shrieks in laughter, leaping from his seat.

Bunnymund is taken aback from the exclamation. "It…It is?"

"Yep! I always thought I was just a normal kid but I'm special, just like you and Uncle North and everyone!" Harry chatters, joy gleaming in his eyes.

"You've always been special, kit—"

"But I'm now special with magic, Da! Strewth, I wonder what the school is like! I've only read books about wizards. Do they use wands or staffs? Do they have brooms that fly and talking animals?"

The Pooka watches his son jump around the room, rattling off question after question, with his long ears pressed flat against his head. Never has he seen Harry so excited and it is killing him keeping his feelings in check lest they ruin the mood.

'_No, ya promised to give Harry a chance and that's what ya are gonna do._'

"—wizards too, Da?"

Hearing Harry address him snaps Bunnymund out of his stupor. "Sorry, kit, whadya say?"

The boy rolls his eyes and jokingly mutters something along the lines like 'old age' and 'bad parenting'—_that's it, Frostbite's not allowed to babysit anymore_.

"Were my birth parents wizards too?" Harry asks again.

Bunnymund bites the inside of his cheek. "I…dunno."

"Why not, Da?"

The crestfallen expression on his son's face jabs at the Guardian's core.

"Look, I'm gonna be straight with ya. Guardian magic and wizard magic are two different things, and—a long lifetime ago—the Man in the Moon thought it'd be best if we didn't interfere."

Harry clambers back on the window-seat. "But you know about the school and such."

"Only a few tidbits, kit," the Pooka lies—_He shouldn't know 'bout that crazy war. It's over and done with anyway._

"So…may I go?"

One look at the boy's big hopeful eyes has Bunnymund—_this is for Harry_—playfully ruffling his son's hair, making the already knotted mess an even bigger one.

"Of course ya can go, kit. Yer gettin' older now and probably don't wanna hang 'round this old Pooka anymore."

Harry snickers and sits up on his knees. Leaning forward, he wraps his arms round his father's scruffy neck. "I'll never tire of you, Da. I love you."

"Love ya too, kit," Bunnymund whispers, holding his son close.

"So this is where you're hiding out," a new voice chimes in.

Both father and son look toward the now open office door and find a certain mischievous winter spirit leaning against the doorframe with a grin.

"Jack!"

Harry scrambles off the window-seat to run over to the teen and give him a tight hug.

"Hey, squirt," Jack smiles, returning the gesture.

"Guess what! Guess what!" the bespectacled boy excitingly exclaims.

"What? What?"

"I got accepted to Hogwarts and Da's lettin' me go!"

The winter spirit cocks an eyebrow. "Hogwarts? What's a Hogwarts?"

Harry shows his brother-figure the envelope. "It's a school that teaches magic! Have you heard of it, Jack?"

"It doesn't ring a bell, kiddo." Jack plucks the wrinkled parchment from the boy's hands and turns it over. "Where'd they get 'Potter' from?"

"Dunno, Frostbite," Bunnymund interjects, joining the two.

"Huh…and you're okay with this, Cottontail?"

"Yeah," the Pooka manages a half-smile, "I'm hunky-dory."

Jack gives his fellow Guardians a look—the same one he uses when he is cooking up a really good prank—before turning to Harry.

"Hey, kiddo, I think I saw the elves bring out a platter of cookies. Why don't you go snag a couple before they're all gone?"

A loud 'Awesome' is the reply as the boy zooms from the room and down the workshop hallway.

"If any feel slimy, don't eat 'em!" Bunnymund calls out after his son.

Once alone, the teen drags the Pooka back inside by the crook of his staff.

"What the—Jack!"

"Okay, Kangaroo, spill."

"Spill what, ya gumby?"

"You're not freaking out."

Bunnymund rolls his eyes. "Great observational skills ya got there, Frosty."

Jack shoves his arm. "You freak out when Harry is with Jamie."

"It was just once," he grumbles, "and I only went batty 'cause Jamie's mum showed up and started askin' questions."

"Good thing the kid's a decent fibber," the teen smirks.

"Yeah, you're definitely not babysittin' again," Bunnymund mumbles under his breath.

Instead of a snarky retort, Jack touches a furry shoulder. "You sure you're alright? Do I need to dose you with happy flakes again?" he offers with a slight smile.

A large paw blankets the spirit's hand. "Nah, I'm just nervous."

"Heck, I'd be nervous too if I was sending my son to some weirdo school with 'warts' in the title."

Bunnymund lets out a dry chuckle. "It's actually the nicest sounding of 'em, to be fair. And what brings ya this way, Jackie?"

The teen shrugs. "I stopped by the Warren to see if Harry wanted to play but you weren't there. I figured something must've happened since the squirt wasn't around either, so I high-tailed it to North's."

"Pretty slick of ya, Frostbite. I didn't think ya had it in ya."

Jack scoffs at the Pooka's smirk and heads for the door, slinging his staff over his shoulder.

"Hardy har. Now let's go find Harry before he overloads on sugar."

* * *

As promised, Jack made an appearance :D Yay!

I'll hopefully have the next chapter up by next week, but don't hold me to that.


	4. Chapter 4

Wow, I can't believe it has been a month since I last updated. I am sorry this took so long; I was having trouble—and still am—with the plot ^^;;

I just hope that I explained things clearly. Writing two fandoms is hard :(

Notice: Canon Divergence, Established Relationship, Families of Choice, Father-Son Relationship, Misuse of Magic, Pitch as the crazy uncle

Disclaimer: I do not own the following franchises or their characters. They rightfully belong to J.K. Rowling and William Joyce.

* * *

It did not take long to find Harry—and a half-eaten platter of cookies—with North in the common room. The toymaker was busy regaling a tale from his youth to the giggling boy, using exuberant gestures and a booming voice. Bunnymund and Jack joined the pair which eventually led to another 'Easter vs. Christmas' argument between the Pooka and North; thankfully, Jack and Harry stepped in before it got really heated.

When bedtime rolled around, Harry was all worn out from the day's excitement.

"G'night, kit," says Bunnymund as he tucks his dozing son in the bed.

Harry murmurs a 'good night, Da' in his sleep, cuddling a raggedy plush-rabbit to his chest. His father places a kiss upon the boy's brow before quietly leaving one of North's guest rooms.

Instead of heading back to the burrow—_not before I can make sure no more ruddy owls come back!_—the Pooka asked his friend if he and Harry could stay for a bit like he originally planned. North was overjoyed at having his nephew sleep over; he even started arranging a big breakfast for the morning.

"Squirt's all tucked in?" asks Jack as he sidles over.

Bunnymund nods, leading the teen away from the door. "Out like a light and countin' sheep."

"Good because I wanted to ask you about this Pigfarts place Harry is over the moon about."

"It's called Hogwarts, mate, and what do ya wanna know?"

"All of it!" Jack exclaims. "I mean, I thought I knew mostly everything but you've been holding out on me," he ends with a pout.

"Wait a tick. Yer tellin' me ya never encountered any wizards or witches while gallivantin' 'round the globe for three-hundred years?"

"Nope," he replies, popping the 'p'. "I was a little busy spreading joy and fun to the kiddies, so spill."

"Maybe later, Jackie."

"You're such a tease."

"Damn straight," Bunnymund smirks.

Rolling his eyes, Jack hovers behind his mate as they descend a spiral staircase leading back to the common room where there is a fire already crackling. The yetis and elves have retired for the night, leaving the workshop quiet. Bunnymund hops over to nearest sofa by the fireplace and plops down on the cushions, letting out a long sigh as he runs a paw down his face. The winter spirit sits cross-legged next to him but keeps a good distance from the dancing flames.

North joins his fellow Guardians minutes later whilst carrying a large mug of what looks to be eggnog—but Bunnymund can smell the vodka from a mile away—and takes a seat on the recliner across from the sofa.

"Hey, North, do you know about this Bogdarts place too?"

"Hogwarts and yes, Jack, I know it," he replied after taking a swig from his drink.

"Then can you tell me about it since Bunny is being so tight-lipped?"

"Well," the toymaker starts, glancing over at Bunnymund who just shrugs, "I suppose I can tell you."

Jack rests his staff across his lap and leans forward to listen better.

North gulps down another swig. "Hogwarts is place where children learn magic."

"Is that where you learned yours?"

"No, an old friend tutored me but that is other story. The school is very ancient and been around since late tenth century."

The teen whistles in amazement. "That long? How come no one's ever heard about it if it's that old?"

"Because non-magic folks fear what they not understand, Jack."

"I don't get it. My believers know about magic and they love it."

"That's 'cause yer believers are children," Bunnymund mentions. "If adults could see ya, would they treat ya the same way?"

Jack ponders for a moment before shaking his head.

"Bunny is right. Magic like that is best kept secret," North concludes.

"Alright, I hear what you're saying but what I still don't understand is why Bunny is worried about Harry going to a magic school. Schools are _kinda_ fun."

The older Guardians share a brief look until the toymaker speaks up.

"Long ago," he pauses, "there was dark wizard who started as student there and grew to do terrible things as adult. He caused many problems and twice many deaths. He even gathered followers and started war."

Jack gapes. "Lemme get this straight. You're sending Harry—our sweet Harry—to a place where a homicidal wizard is running amuck? Has old age finally caught up with you two?"

Bunnymund—briefly ignoring the wisecrack—places a paw on his mate's shoulder. "Relax, the bloke is long gone. He bit the dust a decade ago."

"How'd he die?"

"We do not know. There was big powerful surge of magic one day and wizard never seen again," North explains.

Jack rubs his temples, slumping against the cushions. "This…is a lot to take in."

The toymaker stands, stomping to the pair seated on the couch. "Fret none, Jack!" he booms; his drink sloshes from his enthusiasm. "Since wizard's disappearance, Hogwarts is now place of good. All other naughty witches and wizards are locked up."

"…You sure? Like one of them isn't going to, you know, break out or anything?"

Bunnymund scoffs. "If those pommy bastards haven't done so by now, then it's a pretty safe bet it ain't gonna happen."

"And Manny would have told us if other dark wizard arose." North gulps down the rest of his beverage. "Now, is late and much work needs to be done in morning."

"You call _this_ late, North?" quips Jack as he gestures to the bright sky of the Pole outside the window.

Bunnymund rolls his eyes at the bad joke while the toymaker heartily laughs.

"Thank you, thank you! I'll be here all week." The winter spirit even hops to his feet and gives a mock bow.

"Yer a real larrikin, Frostbite."

Jack responds back with a cheeky grin.

"Bunny, I had guestroom next to Harry's set up for you," North says between chuckles.

The Pooka stands and rolls his shoulders, working out the kinks. "Thanks, mate, but I'm gonna bunk with the kit. I just…wanna be with 'im right now," he sighs.

North knowingly nods. "Is fine, comrade. What of you, Jack? I am planning breakfast celebration tomorrow for Harry! I have already sent invitations for Sandy and Tooth as well."

"Wouldn't miss it for anything," the teen smiles.

The three Guardians soon go their separate ways: North striding to the kitchens—probably getting a refill on his 'eggnog'—before heading to his bedroom, Jack briefly flying off to Russia to deliver an overdue cold snap, and Bunnymund returning to his son's room.

Slipping back inside, he finds Harry had kicked the pillows away and is now sprawled out in the middle of the mattress with the comforter tangled around him and the plush toy still in his arms. Bunnymund fondly shakes his head and hops over. He grabs the pillows from the floor and places them back in their proper spots. Next, he carefully maneuvers Harry back into a decent sleeping position before climbing in; it is a good thing the bed is big enough to hold them both. Harry instinctively curls next to his father with a sleepy smile.

The Pooka brushes back a few wispy bangs from his son's forehead. A furry finger skims across the oddly-shaped scar the boy has had since he adopted him.

Bunnymund's ears sag, unable to find the will to sleep. His worry has not subsided and figures it probably never will. The wizarding world is too different and even though it is safe now, he cannot shake the feeling that something will go wrong.

* * *

Oh boy, this chapter was a toughie. You might have to wait a while or two longer for Chapter 5 until it's done.

But I am proud to announce that I have chosen the person who will accompany Harry to Diagon Alley! However...it's still a secret~ ;D


	5. Chapter 5

Ummm yeah...sorrythistooksolong! *throws Chapter 5 and flees*

Disclaimer: I do not own the following franchises or their characters. They rightfully belong to J.K. Rowling and William Joyce.

* * *

Dining at the Workshop is always hectic with Jack and Harry starting mini food fights, Tooth delegating between scolding the boys over how much sugar they use and rattling off instructions to her faeries, Sandy casually falling asleep until something snaps him awake, Bunnymund fending off elves to keep them from swiping his food while shouting at his son and his mate to knock it off, and North half-eating-half-tinkering at the table while various yetis bumble over every five minutes with documents needed to be signed.

Once all of the dishes are cleared away when everyone has had their fill, Harry announces that he has big and exciting news to share with his uncle and aunt.

A golden question mark floats above Sandy's head.

"It's only the greatest news ev'r, Uncle Sandy!"

"Well, don't keep us in suspense, Harry," Tooth smiles, her feathers twitching from her nephew's infectious mood, "what is it?"

The boy beams as he reaches into his sweater pocket and takes out his now-crumpled Hogwarts envelope. He proudly shows it off to his uncle and aunt.

"I'm goin' to Hogwarts!"

Twin expressions of worry flit over Tooth and Sandy's faces but they quickly become ones of happiness before Harry can notice.

"That's wonderful, sweetie!"

Sandy gives him two thumbs up.

"I'm so excited!" Harry happily bounces in his seat.

"I wonder what supplies you'll need," Jack muses. "I doubt the local stores sell those kinds of things."

"Didn't the letter come with a list, kit?"

"Oh yeah!" Harry opens the envelope, fishes out a second page, and hands it to his father.

Bunnymund takes out a pair of tiny circular glasses from his bandolier in order to read the cursive script better; his ear twitches when he hears Jack hold back a snorting laugh.

"Crikey, that's a lot," he frowns.

"What does it say?" asks Tooth.

"It's askin' for robes, books, a wand, quills, ink, and a slew of other stuff."

North reaches over and plucks the parchment from the Pooka's hands, giving it a quick look over. "Is fine, Bunny. Workshop has things Harry can use and yetis can make good robes too."

Sandy sneaks a look and creates a miniature telescope and scales with a check mark next to each from his sand.

"Sandy is right. We all pitch in for sake of our nephew!"

Bunnymund is not surprised by their helpful determination. They are, after all, a family.

"What 'bout the books and the wand, Da?"

"Books might be a hassle. As for the wand—"

"Getting wand is easy too!" North cuts in. "I know many magical craftsmen throughout globe and three who owe favors."

"And I can poke around for the books!" chirps Tooth. "My faeries can travel everywhere and can tell me if they find any wizard bookstores."

"Thanks heaps, Aunty Tooth!"

Harry jumps from his seat, running over to give the feathered woman a big hug. He then dashes over to give North and Sandy hugs too.

"Well, this stinks. I want to contribute something too," Jack dejectedly pouts.

"You can help me decide on which critter to get," the boy grins.

"Whoa, hold it. Whatcha talkin' about, kit?"

"The letter says I can have an owl or a cat or a toad." The grin gets bigger and sneakier.

Bunnymund shakes his head. "Oh no, remember the last time ya tried bringin' home an animal?"

"But it was just a puppy, Da!"

"A _greyhound_ puppy for Moon's sake," the Pooka stresses.

Harry pouts. "Jamie said it was okay."

"Come on, Bunny. It's going to be with Harry most of the year, so you won't have to deal with it," Jack reasons, "and the kid's pretty responsible."

The pleading expression his son gives has him conceding. "Alright, ya can have a pet but it's yer responsibility!"

Harry beams, rattling off 'thank you' after 'thank you'.

It takes a while for Bunnymund to convince his son not to get an owl—_nothin' but devil birds, the whole lot of them!_—or a cat—_those blighters are vicious!_

They opt on getting a toad and Jack knows the perfect place to find one: Burgess.

**. . . . . .**

After arriving at Jack's lake via snow-globe, Harry instantly runs off to the Bennett's house to tell his friends the good news with his brother-figure lagging behind; _when is this stupid heat wave going to end?_

Jack is the only one who tagged along since Bunnymund returned to the Warren to—_what did he say again?_—'owl-proof' it. Tooth and Sandy had to return to their duties while North started going through his contacts for the wand. He finds Harry in the backyard, already immersed in his retelling of what happened yesterday. Sophie is immediately enthralled with her brother not far behind.

"That's so cool!" Jamie exclaims.

"I know!" smiles Harry.

The winter spirit drops down besides the children. "Heya guys."

"Jack-Jack~"

Sophie instantly latches on his leg, babbling about random things.

"Hey, Jack! Do you know about Harry's good news?"

"Yep! The kid can't stop gabbing about it. It's kinda cute," Jack jokes, playfully ruffling bespectacled boy's hair.

"Jack, cut it out," Harry whines, although he does not mind the gesture, "and I wasn't yabberin' that much."

"Are you guys going to stay a while or did you just drop by to tell us your news?" asks Jamie.

Harry perks up. "Me and Jack came here lookin' for a toad because Hogwarts says I can bring a pet."

"Froggy! Ribbit ribbit~" Sophie chimes in, still attached to Jack's leg.

"Do you think we can invite the others along? Monty got this new science kit and he has been waiting to try it out."

"Ace! The more the merrier!"

**. . . . . .**

Four phone calls and several promises to parents later, Harry, Jack, and his believers venture to a secluded area of Burgess Park, dressed in comfortable summer clothing and armed with toad-catching supplies. They all end up having an excellent time with exploring the creek and rocks, and Jack rousing everyone into an impromptu snowball fight for a cool-down; luckily the heat melts away all traces of their wintry fun.

Searching for the better part of an afternoon yields success. It is Sophie who finds a toad for Harry, purely by accident since it hopped up from its watery hideout and landed on her sandaled feet. It takes a good ten minutes to calm her down from the _scary scary froggy!_ and for Harry to pinky-swear to show her magic when he gets back from Hogwarts.

When the sky starts turning pinkish-purple, it is time to head home. Harry and Jack bid good-bye to their friends with the former swearing he will send lots of letters.

"What are you going to name him, squirt?"

Harry ponders for a bit, looking down at the plump sleeping amphibian in the clear-plastic carrying case. "I think I'll call 'im 'Freddie'."

"Freddie the Toad. Hmm, it has a nice ring to it."

The boy nods in agreement. "I can't wait to show Da!"

"I'm sure he'll love him," Jack snickers.

Tossing a travel-sized snow-globe the teen brought along, the pair returns to the Workshop through the swirling portal with a new friend in tow.

**. . . . . .**

Meanwhile, whilst the fun toad-searching is going on, Bunnymund finishes putting up brand-new seals to ward off all unwanted visitors, excluding the Guardians and their helpers.

"There, all done. No more psychotic featherbrains will be gettin' in here!"

Immediately after the Pooka says that, a strange scent drifts in along the breeze, tickling his nose—_do I smell lemons?_

His long ears pivot left and right, picking up a pair of footsteps approaching from behind. Bunnymund slowly extracts his boomerangs from their sheaths. Steadying his breathing, he waits until whomever or whatever is close enough before whirling around to attack.

There is a flash and the Pooka is sprawled on his back with his weapons out of reach. _What the—_

"Ah, forgive me. Bit of a reflex actually," a wispy elderly voice answers.

Bunnymund irately hops to his feet—_armed or not, I can take down this blighter!_—but he freezes upon seeing who the intruder is.

"You…"

"My name is Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore and I am pleased to make your acquaintance."

* * *

Don't worry! Harry is still going to Diagon Alley :)

And I'm probably going to post an interlude chapter next.


End file.
